


treat it like a dance

by zimtlein



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Cheating, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Heartache, Post-Canon, Time Skips, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein
Summary: Each year, Raihan watches as another boy falls for Gloria. He shouldn’t find it as interesting as he does.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Sonia (one-sided), Kibana | Raihan & Sonia, Kibana | Raihan/Yuuri | Gloria, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

She catches his eye. She never did before. But of course Raihan remembers her. He remembers their battle some months ago, and he remembers how she lost to the new champion, and when their eyes meet, he smiles.

She doesn’t smile back and turns her head away.

Rude.

The room is packed and stuffy. A nice ceremonial hall Chairman Rose used to rent for them every year (now, Leon is the one having the honor of doing so). In order to celebrate the champion cup and its winner. Which usually would have been Leon. Strange to see another person in this position. And strange to see that girl right next to the current champion.

“What’s that girl called again?” he asks out loud without looking away from her.

Next to him, Sonia gives a sound. A pretty dress emphasizes her soft curves. It’s different from the way she usually looks, and he still remembers the little girl trying to keep up with Leon all the time. Seems like it’s been an eternity. “You mean Gloria?”

“Yeah. Her.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why is she here? She lost to Victor, didn’t she?”

“She’s one of his closest friends.”

“Huh. Really? Never seemed so.”

“Friendly rivals, I guess?” Sonia pauses. “Reminds me of Leon and me. Well, I guess it does. Gloria has far more fight in her than I do.”

It’s not like Raihan can disagree, but openly agreeing would have been rude, and instead, he flashes her a smile. “Now look at you. A proper respectable researcher. Got far on your own, didn’t you?”

“Quite the charmer.” Sonia smiles at him half-heartedly. “Some people are made for being trainers. Some aren’t.” She shrugs, averting her gaze again. “You know that Hop is under my supervision at the moment, right? He is reading biology at Motostoke University. Wanting to follow in my footsteps, I guess.”

“I heard,” Raihan replies. “From Leon. Bloke’s massively excited about his lil’ bro’s antics.”

“He is. It’s kind of cute.”

Raihan snorts and looks at Gloria again. She’s a pretty girl. Cute, small, not quite his type. Too fragile. Too delicate. Too young, maybe. She must be seventeen by now, or eighteen if she set out later than her peers. A pink short dress which doesn’t quite seem to fit her. She’s still talking to Victor. She isn’t smiling. It makes her face look cold. He realizes that his arms are crossed, and as he rolls his shoulders and assumes a more casual pose, he sees Hop. A fidgety boy, he always was. Curiously, even more fidgety than usual as he starts talking to Gloria.

In the far back of the room, Leon is talking to Bea, a constant smile on his lips. Sonia is watching them. Her arms are crossed. She looks unusually pretty, he begins to think. Her lips are pursed and a small wrinkle has formed between her eyes. Raihan leans against the wall behind his back, choosing a perfectly neutral tone.

“Does Hop have a girlfriend?”

Sonia wrenches her head around to him, eyebrows drawn together. “Pardon?”

“I feel like you would know, being his supervisor.”

“I,” she begins, and directs her gaze towards Hop. “I don’t know? Maybe? I never asked. Why?”

“Because he seems nervous around – what was she called? Gloria.”

Sonia’s face stays skeptical as she keeps watching Hop. “I mean, she sometimes turns up at the lab and has a talk with him, but other than that … Why would you even care?”

“Just curious. Leon never talked about his brother’s love life. I began to assume there isn’t one to begin with, but maybe I’m wrong.” He shrugs. “Maybe Hop is quite the ladies’ men, what do I know?”

Sonia barks out a laugh. “He’s sweet as a pie. Similar charm as his brother, I’d say.”

“You mean, the kind of clueless charm no bird would ever find attractive?”

“You’re so funny, Raihan.”

“Thanks. I’ll be here all night.” With a sigh, he reaches for his phone. “Literally. We have no choice. Don’t get why you’d come here of your own free will.”

“Free drinks. Free food. Doing some catching up. Enough of a reason, is it not?”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that her eyes drift to the far back of the room again, and instead, he looks through his social media accounts. Looking for a trace of that girl. Gloria. It’s not like she is that interesting, but there’s nothing much do to otherwise. Leon is occupied with his former colleagues, Sonia is occupied with her thoughts, and he is occupied with the desire to leave as soon as possible. But he can’t find her anywhere. Victor has no pictures with her. Neither does Hop.

Raihan looks at her again, and this time, he catches her staring right back. Just for a moment before she quickly averts her gaze.

Still rude. But somehow becoming interesting.

“How about we join our dear new champ in his conversation?” he suggests.

Sonia shifts her weight from one foot to the other, blinks at him. “I don’t know if I feel like socializing.”

“Sure you do.”

“I’m not you, Raihan. I don’t have endless energy for that kind of stuff. It’s late anyway, and I –”

He grabs her arm and pulls her with him. She hardly protests. It’s a shame, really. It has been a shame since they started their gym challenge, since he realized that Sonia stumbled over words when talking to her childhood friend, since Leon laughed at the suggestion of seeing Sonia as the proper woman she grew into. He stops in front of the three of them – the champ and his loyal entourage. It would almost be funny if it reminded him more of his own days journeying through Galar, but it doesn’t, and he smiles at Victor.

“Hiya, champ. How you holding up?”

“Good. I guess.” There’s a bottle of beer in Victor’s hand, and it seems somewhat surreal, considering Raihan saw him as nothing more than a kid some months ago. “Still a bit overwhelmed, but overall? Good.” He sends Raihan a smile.

“With all that support, I’m sure things won’t get too difficult for you.” Sonia pats Hop’s shoulder with a grin.

“Sure!” Hop is a ball of enthusiasm and energy, and once again, Raihan asks himself how Sonia does it, being surrounded by an image of could-have-beens day after day. Her grin not wavering in the slightest, holding onto memories that should be long forgotten.

“Can always count on us, mate,” Hop adds.

“Speaking for others, are you?” Gloria chimes in. Her firm voice betrays her fragile form. Raihan remembers it; the tone she used when battling him, the willpower behind every syllable, and he can’t help but stare at her. “But yeah. We’ll be there for you.”

“Appreciate it. Cheers.” Victor lifts his bottle. Hop is holding a glass of something, and Gloria is, too. Raihan assumes it isn’t alcoholic beverage. At least he hopes so. They are quite young, the bunch of them; but they aren’t kids. Not anymore, maybe.

“Just a bit funny,” Raihan continues. “Because that bloke – Bede? He is a gym leader now, isn’t he? And that bird, Marnie – her too. And even though you are here right now, an official festivity organized by the league …” He smiles at Gloria. “You haven’t been offered a position as gym leader, have you?”

She looks at him. There is an icy shimmer in her eyes, and he doesn’t know if it is a loathing for him, or for herself, or for the league in itself. He isn’t surprised at all when it is Hop who comes to her rescue, his tone just a tad sharper than before.

“There wasn’t any open position left.”

“The gym leaders aren’t chosen by the league, anyway,” Victor adds, looking pointedly at his drink. “Most of the positions are directly passed onto a trainer the previous gym leader deemed worthy.”

“It has nothing to do with skills,” Hop huffs. “Gloria’s a strong trainer. If it was about skills, she would have been given her own gym right away.” A beat as he stares at Raihan, all the bubbly energy replaced by a tension Raihan didn’t anticipate. “I mean, she also beat you, didn’t she?”

One corner of Raihan’s mouth twitches upwards. When he shoots a look at Sonia, he sees her shaking her head slightly, her eyebrows drawn together once again. He tries to relax his shoulders, giving a sigh in the process.

“Right. Got a bit too careless. Should never judge a book by its cover, they say.”

At that, Gloria raises her eyebrows. “And what do you mean by that?”

“He’s just trying to make himself look less of a sore loser than he really is,” Victor says. He sounds somewhat tired.

“Harsh.” Raihan laughs. “If you’re ever up for a rematch, you know where to find me, love.”

Gloria scrunches her nose up, and yet it’s Hop once again who answers, his words hasty and accompanied by disdain. “She’s an elite trainer. Challenging Lee all the time. Sorry, but I guess you’re out of her league already, mate.”

An exhausted smile appears on Gloria’s lips, but it’s only reserved for Hop, and when she looks at Raihan again, her face looks carefully blank. “Don’t want you to cry your eyes out because you can’t beat a little girl, _love_.”

Again, Raihan has to laugh. This time genuinely. Across from him, Sonia sends him a hard look before turning to the champion and putting on a smile. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s chat about more pleasant things. For example, your training with Mustard! Tell us, Victor. Are the rumors true? Does he eat nothing but beans on toast all day?”

It’s a trivial conversation, one Raihan isn’t even remotely interested in. So he keeps watching Gloria as inconspicuously as possible. It’s painfully obvious that Hop fancies her. Less obvious why. Nothing about her is as feminine as he thought. A smile here, a smile there, and it never seems quite as genuine as it should. He doesn’t know if Hop can’t see it, or if he is blind to it, or if there is something Raihan is missing.

In the middle of their conversation, her eyes meet Raihan’s. She quickly looks away again. He doesn’t know if her cheeks become pink or if he is just imagining it. She grabs Hop’s arm, quietly whispering something in his ear before leaving the rest of them on the spot. Her hand is still gripping his arm as they walk towards Leon.

“I think she doesn’t like me,” it escapes Raihan.

“You’re not making that very difficult,” Sonia sighs.

“Seriously,” Victor mumbles. “She’s a good trainer. I almost feel guilty.”

“For being better than her?”

Raihan’s words make the champion pause. “I don’t think it’s about better or worse. It’s about luck. Maybe I was just lucky, and before me, Leon was always the lucky one. I don’t know.”

That’s funny, a new-fledged champ like Victor saying things not even Leon would have ever thought about.

Sonia cocks her head in response. “You are quite something, Victor.”

“Thanks?” He shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“And you can be a real pain in the bum,” Sonia sighs, smacking Raihan’s arm softly. “Don’t go and give a girl you don’t even know a hard time, will you?”

Raihan grins, but doesn’t apologize. Instead, he turns his head to watch Gloria and her admirer at the buffet. Something about her softens when she is talking to her friends, and he has to admit that a smile fits her. Makes her look more approachable, more like the pretty picture people expect to see.

The thought makes him shiver.

“Childhood friends, huh? The three of you?” Raihan asks.

“Gloria moved to Postwick when we were ‘bout eleven,” Victor says. Raihan notices that he is staring in her direction too, and he can understand the pensiveness shining in his eyes. “Made a promise that we’d set out together, yeah.”

“Aw,” Sonia sniffles. “That’s so cute. Three childhood friends setting out together.”

“Two childhood friends would have been even cuter, eh?” Raihan smiles at her, his tone gentle. “Nessa and I should apologize.”

As Sonia is waving her hand in a gesture of nonchalance, Victor blinks at him. “Nessa, too? I always thought that only you two and Leon traveled together.”

“Nessa was such an annoying kid.” Raihan laughs. “Always trying to be the best of us all.”

“Wish I was as patient as Milo,” Sonia mumbles. “He was the only one who could calm her down. Every time I tried to have a serious talk with her, she’d just shut me up. Until the champion cup, that is. She mellowed out afterwards.”

The memories make Raihan smile, even though he doesn’t want to think about the feelings accompanying them, and he nods towards Gloria. “So you became the third wheel? Seem to be a cute couple, the two of them.”

Victor stares at him long and hard. “Hop and Gloria aren’t a couple.”

“Shame,” Raihan drawls. “Seeing how much Hop fancies her.”

Victor keeps staring at him. Raihan stares right back. Next to them, Sonia starts fidgeting, clasping her hands together.

“Quite the assumptions you’re making here,” Victor eventually says.

“Just some observations.”

“Ah.” With that, Victor shoots him one last glance, walking away and leaving Raihan and Sonia alone once again.

It takes her a few seconds to say something, and when she does, weariness colors her features. “You can be such a prick.”

“That really hurt.”

“You say with that shite-eating grin.”

“Can’t help it. I’m just a naturally curious person.”

“Oh, sod off,” Sonia sighs.

He doesn’t smoke. Never did. Hardly anyone does anymore. When they were kids, Leon stole a pack from his father. He made his Charmander light up a cigarette, took a drag, and passed it on before having a coughing fit. Pretty amusing, and a bit sad, and Raihan learned to not inhale too deeply. No use in doing so. No use in drowning senses.

The smoking area outside is empty, a tiny balcony with two benches and way too many plants, offering a view over Wyndon. The doors are right next to the cloakroom. Nobody would stumble in here on accident. Nobody who doesn’t know about this place, that is.

So when a pretty girl enters the balcony and freezes as their eyes meet, he isn’t surprised in the slightest.

“Who do we have here?” He grins. “Lost your way, little birdie?”

Gloria sends him a look and approaches the railing, her crossed arms propped on it. She looks at the view of a metropolis by night in front of her as she speaks. “Do you always underestimate people? Or is it especially funny if it’s a young girl?”

“Making me out to be that kind of tosser, I see.”

“I’m stating facts.”

He chuckles and wishes he had a drink right now. Instead he looks at his phones, scrolling through pictures that don’t interest him in the slightest. “Left your doggie in there, did you?”

“My what?”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look up from his phone. “That fuzzy ball of energy that follows you like a good little doggie. Don’t play dumb.” He snorts at himself. “Oh, or did I overestimate you right there?”

“Shut your gob.”

“Sorry. That was rude of me, you’re right.”

Silence. With some double taps, he likes pictures which he didn’t even properly look at. He likes pictures of pretty women in which they are showing their bodies, beautiful makeup, beautiful outfits, beautiful hair and faces and sunsets. He doesn’t like loneliness, he thinks, and he wonders if she feels the same, or if she would want him to go. But it would take too much effort to ask. He waits.

“You were with Sonia the whole evening,” she eventually says.

He doesn’t answer, staring at the picture of a blonde woman he is fairly certain he met some time ago.

“I don’t think you fancy her, though. You just made sure she had a distraction.”

Raihan snorts. “A psychologist, I see.”

“People watcher.”

“What I said.”

“You’re not as much of a prick as you like to pretend.”

He stops scrolling for a second. When he notices as much, he opens his private messages. Most of them he’s left unread. Most of those women are pretty and like to please him. Some of them he met, and slept with, and maybe met again once or twice, and slept with again once or twice, and he tries to smile. “What’s the real you, then? The friendly one you like to show your doggie, all sweet smiles and sweet words? Or the one you are showing me right now, trying so hard to be intimidating and getting nowhere?”

“Stop calling him my doggie.”

“Your cute boyfriend, then.”

“I don’t …” She gives a heavy breath. “He isn’t. He never will be. He’s not going to be my boyfriend.”

“Why not? You’d make a cute couple.”

“Because I don’t have feelings for him. Easy as that. I don’t.”

Easy. That’s easy. Right. He wants to close the app and goes back to scrolling through pictures. Nessa posted a picture of herself this evening, a black dress that fits her wonderfully, and he remembers talking to her too, a long time ago. About feelings, and about broken hearts. He stares at the picture longer than he intended to.

“You should tell him,” he says.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I’m not saying this to tease you. I think you should tell him. You’re leading him on, and it’s only going to break his heart.”

“What would you know about broken hearts?”

When he looks at her, he can see how much she regrets her words. She ducks her head and doesn’t meet his eyes. Her cheeks are colored pink.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “That was rude.”

“Seems like I’m a bad influence, aren’t I?”

A snort. It sounds unamused. “I’m not leading him on. I’m doing nothing.”

He barks out a laugh. “You think so? You should take a hard look at yourself, then.”

“What?” she says. “Just because I’m nice to a friend, I’m leading him on? Ever thought that it isn’t fair on me, either? What am I supposed to do, be mean to him?”

He shrugs. “Be honest to him, maybe.”

“Rich coming from you,” she mumbles.

She doesn’t see his amused grin as she walks off, leaving the balcony hastily. Women told him they like his smile. Women told him they like the way he teases them, his confidence. They love his attention, they say. Most of the time, he doesn’t care. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to think. So he looks at Nessa’s picture again. An annoying kid, years ago. He almost can’t believe who she has grown into. Who she is now.

A knock, a thump, someone cursing sharply.

Raihan sits up and stares at his hotel room’s door. He is already in sleepwear, a t-shirt and his boxers, and he quickly pulls some trousers over his legs before opening the door. He finds a little girl in front of it, trying to grab her keys from the floor and failing miserably.

“Wrong room,” he tells her.

“What?” is the response. Gloria looks up to him. Her eyes are reddened and unfocused, and she reeks of alcohol. She almost falls to the side as she tries to keep looking at him. “’S not. ‘S my room.”

“No, it isn’t, love.” He sighs and crouches to her level, snatching the keys away from underneath her fingers. “See. Your key says 305. This is room 315. You get the difference?”

“I’m not fucking dumb.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Stop fucking with me.”

He sighs yet again. After all, he’s not a babysitter. But still. Nobody seems to be with her – which is pretty careless. That girl can barely stand up on her own, and he has to offer her his arm so she doesn’t collapse to the floor right away. How she even got to the third floor on her own is beyond him.

“I’m going to bring you to your room now,” he tells her. “That all right?”

“Whatever.”

Brat. But he’s not that much of an arsehole. So he helps her. When he realizes that she can’t walk properly, he doesn’t hesitate to grab her waist and lift her up. She squeaks, then smacks his shoulder harder than necessary. She weighs so little that it’s almost worrying.

“Let me go, you neanderthal.”

“Don’t you worry. I’m not going to kidnap you.”

“I don’t need your sodding help.”

For the third time in just a few minutes, he sighs. “You can’t even speak without stumbling over every second word.”

She bombards him with some more curse words, presenting an alarmingly extensive vocabulary, and then she starts thrashing in his arms. It’s getting annoying. So he’s more than glad when he finally manages to unlock the door to her hotel room. Without reacting to her insults, he lets her sink to the bed, and because he secretly does have a heart, he enters the bathroom and searches for a glass. Her senseless protests ebb away. He is even becoming worried as he fills the glass he found with water, and he leaves the bathroom only to find Gloria stare at the ceiling in silence.

“You feeling sick?” he asks.

“A bit.”

At least she seems calmer now. He puts the glass on the bed table next to her. “If you want to throw up, do it now. Get it out of your system. You’ll sleep better, too.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“I know.” She turns to her side, showing him her back. “I know you do.” Her voice gets heavy, tearful. “That’s just it. I don’t get it.”

The whiny kind of drunk. Great. He massages his forehead and sits down at the edge of the bed. The gym will be closed tomorrow, and he isn’t that tired to begin with, and anyway, she’s just a girl. A pretty little girl. Nothing more. “What do you not get?” he asks, elbows propped on his knees.

“Why someone would ever like me. Why Hop would like me.”

He doesn’t know what to say. She’ll forget about it anyway. Their talk will be nothing more than a blurry memory, and if it’s her first time getting drunk, she will swear to herself to never drink one drop of alcohol again. She will wonder how she got in her bed, if someone helped her, and she won’t remember that it was him. She won’t remember what she told him.

He shouldn’t use that to his advantage.

She hiccups. He doesn’t touch her, even though the urge to comfort her becomes stronger. Instead he clasps his hands and stares at them.

“Maybe there’s no reason behind it,” he says.

“That’s not what I mean.” Her voice almost becomes lost underneath her unshed tears. “He doesn’t even know me.”

“You’re childhood friends. He’s known you for years.”

“He doesn’t know _me_.”

Raihan keeps quiet. His phone is in his room. His hands feel empty. It’s spring, and the room is suffocatingly warm, and he tugs at the neckline of his shirt. In the silence, Gloria’s sob echoes just so much more cruelly.

“Did you tell him?” he asks.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t hurt him.”

“You could let him see who you are. Open up.”

“I can’t.”

He keeps staring at his hands. It’s getting harder to breathe. He wishes he could forget just like she will.

“I’m going to go,” he says.

She doesn’t respond. She just keeps sobbing. Despite his words, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know how much time has passed until he hears her voice again.

“Whoever broke your heart – did she see who you really are?” she whispers.

“That’s getting really deep.”

“I think that’s why you get it,” she continues, sounding so completely different from before, from some months ago when she challenged him. Sounding like the girl that she really is. “Because maybe, you could have loved her, and she could have loved you, but it’s scary. Being yourself is scary.”

He isn’t sure if he understands.

Maybe she didn’t need a response anyway, or maybe she is too tired already, but it doesn’t take long until her breaths get more even. She looks helpless in her pretty pink dress, and fragile, and he wonders for a moment just who she is trying to fool. He stands up, puts her keys on the bed table, and exits the room. Nobody followed her up here. It’s late, and for a moment he wonders what she did, why she got drunk, what she wanted to forget.

He decides that honestly, it shouldn’t be his problem. And it isn’t.

The next day, he sees Victor in the entrance hall.

“Had a great afterparty last night, I heard,” he says.

Victor looks tired, evidence of just how much fun it must have been. A pair of sunglasses hides his eyes from giving even more away. “Was all right.”

A grin forms on Raihan’s lips. “Having a hangover breakfast with your friends now?”

Victor shrugs. “With Hop, yeah. No idea where Gloria is. She already checked out.” He sighs. “That’s just Gloria for you. Up and away. Can’t keep her in one place for too long.”

Raihan stares, and wonders, and decides to stop wondering.


	2. Chapter 2

She catches his eye. He remembers that she did so one year ago, too. It’s the same pink dress, the same fragile physique. The same refusal to return his smile. He almost has to laugh. Before spotting her, he didn’t want to drink. Now he does. She didn’t visit him once. Never challenged him. Never said hello. Never searched for him on social media to shoot him a text. Their conversation has become a blurry memory even for him, and he didn’t need do drown his senses to make it happen.

The room is packed once again. Gym leaders and their acquaintances. Some of the gyms’ apprentices, too. Leon, of course. Sort of becoming a mentor for Victor, challenging him whenever he can. He was just lucky, Victor told Raihan back then. Just lucky that he won. And in this year’s champion cup, Victor did it once again. Wiping the floor with every challenger there was. The willpower in his eyes electrifying.

Raihan steals another glance at Gloria. Hop isn’t next to her. He is talking to his brother, and when Raihan looks from Leon to Gloria again, he realizes that she must have been watching him. There’s a glass in her hand, and he hopes to god she won’t make the same mistake as last time.

“Last year, they had salmon steak,” Sonia sighs next to him. “With raisins and walnuts. Why aren’t they offering it this year?”

“Because only weird people like raisins.”

“Then I’m proud of being weird,” she huffs. She looks pretty once again. More make-up than she usually wears, and jewelry he didn’t even know she owns, and hair that cascades over her shoulders. “Just so you know, you’re also pretty weird.”

“How so?”

“Claiming you’re a sociable lad and hanging out in the corner, afraid that someone will talk to you. Got shy all of a sudden, hm?”

“A mind reader, aren’t you?”

“No. I just know you by now.”

A small laugh escapes him. He doesn’t answer.

She scratches her cheek. “Shame that they broke up, huh?” She is staring in the same direction as him, and it takes him some time to put the pieces together.

If Gloria had gotten together with Hop, he would have laughed. When he read about her and Bede though, he didn’t know how to react. Cold, arrogant Bede. The complete opposite of Hop. Almost funny, but ultimately not, and he shrugs.

“Wonder how she could stand him.”

“Bede is a decent chap,” Sonia mumbles. “If you get to know him. His attitude has gotten better, at least.”

It’s no wonder Bede is at the far end of the room, his back turned to Gloria. Not once does he take a glance at her. Even more curious that she is staring at her ex like a lost little puppy, only turning back to Victor whenever he starts talking again.

“Why did they break up?” he asks.

“Nobody knows.” In a familiar gesture, Sonia starts twirling her hair, her finger almost getting stuck in her curls. “Everyone speculates, though. They seemed pretty happy at first.”

Raihan wonders if they did, because she smiled in all the pictures he saw, she smiled like she had no care in the world, and he didn’t buy it for one second.

“So the typical stuff,” he says, and looks down at his phone. “She got bored, or he got bored, and they got rid of each other. Easy.”

“Hey.” Sonia softly pushes him. “You know that’s not how relationships usually work.”

“No? Where’s your counterexample?”

She doesn’t reply. Something about her silence is not as lighthearted as it should be. He looks up from his phone to find Nessa sauntering towards them. Every step of hers seems perfectly calculated, her hair framing her face in just the right way. Raihan plasters on his best smile and nods at her as she comes to a halt before them.

“Your better half left you all on your own? What a surprise,” Raihan says.

Nessa is a tall woman, but not quite tall enough to be on his eye level. It’s the one thing he could always be smug about, the one single thing, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of it, staring down at her with his hands buried in his pockets. As always, her fighting spirit returns to her eyes, making them shine with anticipation.

“And the one claiming to be the most sociable of all of us? Hiding in the corner like a scared kitty,” she replies, head slightly cocked to the side.

“What I said,” Sonia mumbles next to them, nipping on her drink.

“You know I never liked this pretentious shit.” Raihan shrugs. “No clue why Leon continues organizing it. It’s expensive and daft.”

“It’s a chance to socialize outside the battlefield,” Nessa replies. “You know, because you are refusing to have a chat with me otherwise.”

There’s no smile on her lips. She never managed to beat him. He isn’t called the strongest gym leader for no reason, but he can remember it. How she fought, time after time, how his heart was racing as he watched her, how he stared at her lips as she was giving her Pokémon commands. He remembers the feeling when she told him that she got engaged to her rival. After years of trying to be close to him, it seems like she finally managed to do so. He doesn’t remember his thoughts, because he smothered them as soon as possible, chatting with random girls and trying to stop comparing himself to a bloke that is just the complete opposite of him.

Funny. Somehow.

“What you wanna chat about?” The words leave his lips before he can hold them back. “How your cutie of a boyfriend doesn’t cut it in the bedroom?”

Nessa’s expression darkens. Next to him, Sonia gives a surprised sound and smack his arm. “Bloody hell, Raihan!” she hisses.

“Don’t worry, Sonia.” Nessa waves her hand, her eyes never leaving Raihan’s. “It’s not like it’s the first time I have to deal with a man-child.”

“Was just joking.” Raihan clears his throat and looks at his phone once again without really paying attention to it.

“I remember you being funnier than that, but nice try.” Her words are cold and hard.

“I remember you being better at giving abstract compliments.”

At that, a small smile twitches onto her lips. A miniscule feeling of triumph flares up inside him, and he smothers it as quickly as possible. 

“I was just wondering what you are up to. I never see you around, unless it’s for official league stuff.” Nessa gestures between the three of them. “I kind of miss this, you see. Talking about old times.”

Sonia’s eyes flash from Raihan to Nessa. “You’re talking as if we were sixty years old already.”

“Well, just do the math,” she answers. “It’s been seven years already. Seven years! Insane how much has changed in that time already.”

“And how much hasn’t.” Sonia smiles.

“True. I’m just wondering when you’ll finally show us a girlfriend of your own, Raihan.” A little smile on Nessa’s lips again, and he can’t tell if it’s playful or if it’s meant to hurt him. “Blonde and pretty, I bet.”

He returns her smile. “You think that’s my type?”

“The type of girl I see commenting your photos, that is.” Nessa shrugs. “The type of girl you attract, I guess.”

The words sting. He doesn’t know if they were supposed to, or if it’s just another joke he should find funny.

“Looked at my profile more than once, I see,” he drawls. “Liked what you saw?”

A roll of her eyes. Nessa’s tone is exasperated. “We’re colleagues, so of course I will have a look at your profile every once in a while. If I were you, I’d be more of mindful of who gets to see what, though.”

“Never heard anyone complain.”

“Until now, it seems.”

It’s the only kind of challenge she seems to be determined to win. But there would be no reward to it, and their senseless bickering is just hiding thoughts he would never admit to himself.

“Right,” he snorts. Honestly, he has nothing left to say, and before Nessa’s piercing eyes can manage to look through him (she never bothered to do so anyway), he slips away. Nessa calls something after him. But he knows Sonia well enough to know he can count on her, and he is left alone as he stops at the bar.

The bartender is a bloke that serves them every year. The first time Raihan was invited to this festivity – shortly after being made a gym leader – he got himself pissed. He woke up feeling miserable and on the verge of dying. And alone. Which was surprising even for him. He’s developed a distaste for beer, and for wine, and most of all for champagne.

He is staring at bottles behind the bar when he hears a familiar voice. Bede, hands buried in his pockets and his hair almost covering his eyes. He’s young, Raihan realizes, just as young as the champion himself. Bede orders a beer. Young, sure, but they have grown up, Raihan thinks, and years have passed without him even noticing.

“Sorry ‘bout you and Gloria,” he says before he can stop himself.

Bede takes his beer. Makes way for Melony behind him who smiles at both of them politely. His face looks blank and empty. “I don’t need your sympathy. Despite what kinds of rumors the media likes to spread, we weren’t a couple.”

“You weren’t,” Raihan repeats.

Bede looks at him like he is an idiot. “No, we were not. We went on some dates. Nothing more to it.”

“But you were in love with her.”

“Like hell I was,” Bede mumbles, takes a sip of his beer, and leaves Raihan standing on the spot.

That’s understandable, at least. Raihan chuckles to himself and orders a glass of apple juice. He takes a look through the room. Gloria turns her head away quickly, her eyes not meeting his, and resumes talking to Victor. Neither Hop nor Bede are near her. Nessa is staring daggers at him, her fiancé having returned to her side. Bede has sauntered off to stand right next to Leon, nodding without seeming too interested in the conversation.

Nessa moves to approach him. Maybe it’s cowardly, but he frankly doesn’t care, and before she can come too close, Raihan quickly heads for the cloakroom.

Wyndon lies before him. Rain is drizzling, drops of water getting caught on the tip of his nose. Cold wind bites his skin. Steps sound behind him, and he wonders what he would do if it was Nessa, staring at him accusingly. Telling him what a wonderful lad Milo is. He doesn’t want to hear it, he knows anyway. So he looks down at his phone and waits.

“You are such a wanker,” Sonia sighs and leans against the railing, back turned to the metropolis in front of them. “Can’t you at least try to be nice for once?”

He keeps looking at his phone. Some raindrops land on his display. When he wipes them away, they only reveal the sight of young women trying to look their best, presenting their bodies in ways he isn’t fazed by anymore. He looks at the comments. At heart emojis, heart-eyes emojis, smiley emojis, at “wow”s and “amazing”s and he is starting to feel tired.

“Thanks for having my back,” he says.

Silence stretches. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Sonia scratch her elbow. Freckles adorn her pale skin. “Well. You have mine, too.”

“So, only fair?”

“Guess so.”

He sees a picture of Leon and his little brother. He has a look at the profile and sees pictures of Leon and his family. Leon and Raihan. Leon and Victor. Leon and Mustard. Not once does Sonia appear on there.

“You should let him know,” he says.

“Let who know what?”

“Let Leon know about your feelings. Get it over and done with.”

Silence again. Raihan tries to loosen his tie. It’s cold out here, and goosebumps are rising on his skin, but he can’t go back in there to get his jacket. Not yet, anyway.

“You’re making it sound so easy,” she replies.

“Maybe it is that easy.”

“If we were in some silly romance novel, then yes. But this is real life. I won’t feel like a burden has been lifted off me. I won’t feel like it’s a fresh start.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty much so.” She sighs. “Look. Just imagine I told him. He wouldn’t know what to say, and things would get weird, and then he’d never come visit me again. Never talk to me.”

“Does he do that often? Visit you, talk to you?”

She scratches her elbow again. Taps her foot against the tiled floor. “It’s not as bad as it was once. I can go on dates. I can stop thinking about him if I want to.”

“Waiting for him to get a girlfriend and let go for good?” Raihan snorts, scrolling through a random bird’s profile. “Yeah, great plan. Will certainly work out in your favor.”

“I’m pretty certain you know how feelings work. Even if you sometimes like to pretend that you don’t.”

If it was easy, he would fall for Sonia. Just like that. She is gentle, and kind, and pretty, and things would fall into place all on their own. No wondering. No endless spiral of thoughts. They’d fall asleep next to each other, and wake up next to each other. They’d exchange soft words and have each other’s backs. If it was easy, he’d pick her.

If he was Leon, he would pick her.

She steps a bit closer. Wraps an arm around his shoulder. Watches as he scrolls through the profile. Her nails are colored turquoise, and she taps against his display with a quiet giggle.

“That’s not your type.”

“How would you know?”

“Your type is determined and a bit too clever for you.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“It’s true. Look at her.” The girl in the picture is blonde and half-naked and very much attractive. “You’ll get bored of her after one evening.”

“Maybe I don’t want more than that.”

“Sure you don’t, womanizer.” Her cheek comes to rest on his shoulder. She smells of an elegant perfume. It’s a shame, nothing but a shame. That those who should notice, don’t. That there is this smart woman undermining herself just because she thinks something like love should be worth it. “So, after your sermon, will you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Tell her and get it over with.”

He snorts, feels his self-loathing like bile in his throat. “Don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know. It isn’t easy. I guess it never will be.”

He locks his display. His own mirror image is reflected in blackness. He gets called handsome, and he can’t understand why nobody sees what he sees.

“I remember their engagement party,” Sonia says.

“Me too.”

“Nessa never looked so happy before. She was a bundle of nerves during her gym challenge. I think she fancied Milo even back then. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have chased after him like she did.”

Rain drizzles onto his skin. It’s getting even colder. “Sometimes it seems to work out, huh? Some people get their happily ever after.”

“You’re also starting to sound as if we were sixty years old.”

“You’re saying we’re too young to understand? You sure sound like a grandma.”

She laughs quietly against his shoulder. He feels her shake even when the laughter has ebbed away, and she sighs, leaning away from him again. “You know. Sometimes I think I stopped seeing Leon for Leon a long time ago. Maybe he’s not that great of a bloke, but I’ve built this image of him, the one of a kind and thoughtful man.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as thoughtful.”

“You see.”

“But he is kind.”

She doesn’t say anything, and he puts his phone away. From his position, he can’t look at her face, can’t see if she is smiling or frowning. “Yeah,” she says. “He is. He is kind to everyone. I always thought I knew him better than anyone, but I think I stopped knowing him the moment we started our gym challenge. Because that was when his true self emerged. That part of him that left me behind.”

“I’m sure that’s not how he sees it.”

“And that is exactly what makes it so much worse.”

He can’t do it. He can’t try to wrap his head around it. So instead, he keeps tugging at his tie. “You’re going to keep silently hurting, then? Is that your plan?”

“It’s not my plan. But it’s the only thing I can do. For now.”

He wants to laugh because it isn’t funny, but people always told him his grin looks good, something to distract them from the truth. He can’t bring himself to lift the corners of his mouth. It’s still cold. He wants to wrap his arm around her like she did, and he can’t do that much either. She doesn’t utter the words that hang in the air. He is grateful.

A knock.

Raihan steps out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. Because there is no reason not to, he opens the door. He finds a little girl in front of it, hand raised for a second knock, her eyes widening in surprise as he waits for her to say something. He keeps brushing his teeth.

“Am I,” Gloria tries and interrupts herself. “Sorry. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

Raihan takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. At least she isn’t drunk this time. Her cheeks are tainted pink, matching her dress. She is thin, he realizes, and small, smaller than Nessa or even Sonia. “You need somethin’?” he asks, trying to sound coherent with the toothpaste in his mouth.

“I just,” she starts again. Then she raises her eyebrows. “Pretty impolite to keep brushing your teeth while someone is talking to you.”

He attempts a grin and nods behind him, leaving the door open as he reenters the bathroom. Her steps are hesitant, and she doesn’t close the door. That’s also impolite, he thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say so out loud. After spitting out the rest of the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, he joins her again. Gloria is still standing near the door, shoulder leaned against the wall and fingers tapping against each other.

“Sorry again,” she says when their eyes meet. “I didn’t think you’d already get ready for bed.”

He grins. “Early riser.”

“Yeah. Didn’t think that either.”

He chuckles, and she ducks her head, clearing her throat.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“Why are you here, then?”

She is still ducking her head, avoiding his eyes. “I just, um … Okay, that was a bloody stupid idea, but I just wanted to … I never thanked you for last year.”

“You remember.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

Seconds pass. She is fidgeting, not once looking at him. Her cheeks are still pink. It suits her, somehow. Softens her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he eventually says, leaning against the doorframe.

She nods. He doesn’t like that she is nervous, and he doesn’t know why she is anyway, and he keeps looking at her, head slightly tilted to the side.

“You want to have a drink?” he asks. There is no implication behind it, but she seems unsure as her eyes meet his. Still maintaining his grin, he nods to his private balcony, offering an even greater view than the ceremony hall’s one.

“Quite the loner, aren’t you,” she says as she closes the door, as she follows him. She wears cute shoes, the heels short. Her hair hasn’t gotten any longer, only reaching her shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen you at any kind of afterparty.” She eyes him. “Never judge a book by its cover.”

The words send a shiver down his spine. He isn’t sure why. He approaches the mini-bar close to the door. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Something that is not too strong.”

“I’m known for my gin tonics. Ought to try one.”

She opens the door to the balcony, back turned to him and laughter in her voice. “Are you secretly a barkeeper?”

“Might have become one if I didn’t become a gym leader.” He fetches gin and tonic water, searches for a cucumber and finds none, clicks his tongue. “Sorry, love. Won’t be a perfect one. That minibar’s useless.”

“Disappointing. But I think I’ll live.”

He thinks of his younger days as he fixes Gloria a drink, as he pours himself a glass of apple juice. Sonia’s favorite was strawberry daiquiri. Leon’s has always been beer. And his? Some of this, some of that, until he stopped caring.

He grabs his phone and follows Gloria to the balcony. She has already made herself comfortable in one of the cushioned chairs, staring at Wyndon.

“I can’t imagine you as a barkeeper,” she says when she is handed her drink. No word of thanks, no sound of appreciation as she takes a sip. She only tosses him a quick glance before turning to the city again.

“Why’s that?”

“Come on. You’d have to be a nice bloke. You clearly aren’t.”

“Ouch.”

“I mean,” she says. “That’s not what I meant. You’re just not the type. The listening type.”

He keeps quiet. She does too. After a few seconds, she gives a sound.

“Great, I get it. Funny.”

Silence again. He looks down at his phone. Someone left comments for some of his pictures. He doesn’t know the girl, and he doesn’t know if he even wants to know her. Sonia must be in bed by now, too. Or maybe she isn’t, and he doesn’t know her as well as he thought.

“Sorry about you and Bede,” he eventually says.

He doesn’t look up to see her reaction, because that would be bad manners. It takes her some time to reply quietly.

“I thought I could fall for him if I tried hard enough. I couldn’t.”

Raihan almost winces. It sounds too true, hurts too much, and he finally looks at her. She has drawn her knees up, her pink dress hardly covering her delicate frame. Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his apple juice.

“That’s some dangerous thinking right there. That’s more than leading him on, you know,” he finally manages.

“It’s leading myself on. I know.”

It’s getting hard to concentrate on pictures of girls he doesn’t know, and he locks his display. “When did you find out, then? That you won’t fall in love with him?”

“When he tried to kiss me.”

“Kiss you? Doesn’t sound like you were a couple.”

“We weren’t. We just went on some dates, had fun.”

“He really likes you. Still.”

She stays silent. Her face is unmoving. “I know.”

It’s scary, feeling his heart drop like that, but somehow he feels like he knows her, and somehow he doesn’t. He wonders who else she told about this, and what they told her. He wonders if he is the only one she would ever let know. He wonders what she gets out of being honest with him of all people.

“So you were brave and told him about your doubts,” he concludes.

A small laugh shakes her shoulders. “I told him I don’t have feelings for him. He looked like I slapped him right in the face.”

“Did it help?”

Eyebrows raised, she turns to him. Her eyes are brown. Just a speck of honey, he notices.

“Did what help?”

“Being truthful.”

With a snort, she wipes strands of hair out of her face. “I don’t know. I guess it went exactly the way I expected.”

“Which is?”

“He avoids me.”

“Are you really that surprised? Lad’s in love with you. Would be hard to stand next to you, knowing he’ll never have a chance of being with you.”

She keeps looking at him, deeply in thought, before she turns to the scenery before her again. “I don’t get it. Why any man should ever fall for me. Maybe I should have asked Hop, because I understand him the least. But he, too. He avoids me.” Slowly, she shakes her head. “That’s all it does. They fall for me, I don’t fall for them, and all that’s left is them avoiding me. I hate it. I really bloody hate it.”

It’s not easy to say something fitting, it’s not easy to find words. He watches her. Her expression, the darkness in her eyes, and he lifts his phone. Opens the camera. Takes a photo. The flash is on. She winces and whirls her head around, staring at him out of wide eyes.

“Did you just take a photo of me?” she asks, flabbergasted.

He shrugs and looks at the picture. It’s pretty in its simplicity. A girl in the night. A girl with swirling thoughts, a girl he doesn’t quite understand and somehow, he does. He flips the phone around, showing her the display. “Would make a pretty first picture for some social media accounts. Seeing as you don’t have a single one.”

She stares at the picture. Looks at him. Her lips curl into a not-quite-there smile. “You looked me up.”

He grins at her, even though he doesn’t feel like grinning.

“I have some accounts,” she continues. “I just don’t use them often enough.”

He keeps grinning, looking at his phone as he leans back again.

“Would you like to know my handle?”

“Sure you’ll handle my pics?” he asks, sounding far more shaky than he wanted to.

“You’re the kind of bloke to have a whole load of topless pics uploaded, aren’t you?”

“Sounds like you really want to find out.”

A snort, and he doesn’t dare look up as he hears her stand up. Tiny little steps until she is right next to him. She leans over, her breath meeting his ear. Whispers her username. Slow, dragging syllables. A sweet perfume that reminds him of overripe peaches. The heat of skin against his.

Playing games has become his second nature, but when he turns his head, she is already back inside the hotel room. Her half-full glass stays on his bed table. She doesn’t look over her shoulder as she exits the room, leaving him alone in cold spring air.

He swears to himself he won’t look her up right away. Yet he does. There aren’t many pictures uploaded. Most of them are of her with a smile, and with short dresses and skirts, and with eyes that are hard to forget.

She wonders why men fall for her, she said.

He doesn’t buy her lie for one second.

The next day, he sees Sonia in the entrance hall.

“You should have been there,” she mumbles. “It was disastrous. Bede and Hop got into a fight, and nobody knows why.” With a sigh, she massages her temples. “Oh my god, I’m dying. I haven’t been hungover in years. You old geezer – you should have looked out for me, not gone to bed!”

That’s interesting, but he tries not to think about it. Sonia’s hair is pulled into a messy bun. A pair of sunglasses hides her eyes. He grins at her and throws an arm around her shoulder.

“You and I are going to have a hangover breakfast,” he announces. “It’s been too long since we’ve had our last one.”

“Ugh, fun,” she mumbles.


	3. Chapter 3

She catches his eye. Of course she does. A different dress this year. Black. That’s funny – it doesn’t fit her, it doesn’t fit the tiny smiles she sends him. But he won’t go over to her. Not yet.

“Aren’t they going out?” Sonia asks next to him. She outdid herself this year, everything about her perfectly in place, any strand and any drop of make-up. She looks more beautiful than she ever did. “Gloria and Victor. Somewhat strange combination. I always thought they are just best friends, and that’s it.”

“Yeah,” he drawls. “Me too.”

Sonia sends him a long look. “You don’t sound too chuffed.”

A snort escapes him. “What do you mean? None of my business, the two of them.”

Sonia is a clever girl. Always was. He can’t do anything but avoid her piercing eyes, instead looking at anything but her. Staying silent is becoming difficult. He nods at the far end of the room.

“Gonna be honest with you. The last time I spoke to Leon was five months ago. Really doesn’t have time for anyone these days.”

“That’s true,” she replies, finally looking away from him. “Even Hop told me about it once or twice. Sounded a bit sad, the poor chap.”

Sometimes Raihan misses it. Simpler times. When the most important thing in the world was to beat Leon eventually, no matter how. When he bickered with Sonia every single day over the most trivial things. And then Leon became champion, and Raihan was offered the position as gym leader after a year of training in Hammerlocke Stadium, and the memories became blurry.

So he grabs Sonia’s arm and drags her with him.

“What are you,” she begins and interrupts herself. “Oh no. No, no. We are not going to talk to Leon.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” she hisses, but by then, it is already too late. Both Bede and Leon turn to them. It doesn’t take long until a bright smile lights up Leon’s face. He hasn’t changed too much, even though years have passed by. The way he pats Raihan’s shoulder never changed.

“Hey, old rival,” Leon says. “Long time no see.”

“Old rival,” Bede repeats, mumbling. “You’re twenty-five years old.”

“Old as in, not anymore, I reckon.” Raihan grins. “Because, you know. One of us is still a member of the league, and one of us isn’t.”

Leon barks out a laugh. “Yeah, never lost your smugness.” Then he smiles at Sonia. “How are you doing? Heard your research project is going all right.”

“My … Well …” She clears her throat. Once, twice. “We are currently attempting to manipulate genetic material of Galarian Pokémon to compare its effect on inheritance of visual appearances, additionally taking note of any behavioral discrepancies that might occur compared to –”

“This is a casual league meeting,” Bede interrupts her. “Not some researcher congress.”

Sonia blushes up to her hairline. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Smart as ever,” Leon adds, grinning. “That’s just why you make the perfect researcher, Sonia. Always knew you had it in you.”

She blushes even harder. Raihan holds back a snort. Always knew so, did he? Always knew so as Sonia kept being left behind. There are so many things Leon is still blind of, and maybe Raihan is too, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Not really.

“You should see her at an actual congress,” Raihan says. “She’s in Wyndon quite often anyway. Ever payed her a little visit, Leon?”

Leon scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t. But good to know. I’ll definitely come by someday.”

“You really don’t have to,” Sonia says, still blushing. She sends Raihan a quick look before putting on a smile. “It’s boring stuff, mostly.”

“It’s not boring.” Raihan shrugs. His hands feel empty, but he holds himself back from taking out his phone. “I just don’t get half of it. Way too many technical terms I never heard of.”

“Who would have guessed,” Bede mumbles under his breath.

“You said something?”

Bede raises his eyebrows. In return, Raihan keeps up his smile. Seconds pass until next to him, Leon gives a tiny laugh. “Thought the champion cup was enough of a showdown.”

With a wave of his hand, Bede turns away. “I’m not the sore loser here.” Then he walks off.

Raihan thinks about the words, and he is sure he is reading too much into them. “Funny bloke,” he says. As he watches Bede walk away, his eyes meet Gloria’s. Just for a brief moment. It’s enough to make his throat close up. Her hand is on Victor’s arm. Her smiles are tiny, careful, and he forces himself to look away again.

“He’s still got some attitude,” Leon admits. “But that might be what makes him a good gym leader.”

They chat about mundane stuff, the closeness he knew years ago gone. Back then, they got drunk together, laughed about silly stuff, fired each other up. Back then, they did their best to be there for each other. For a certain period of time, that is – until Sonia couldn’t keep up anymore. He misses it. He misses it so much that he has to excuse himself, wanting nothing more than to escape from his longing, and he bumps into Nessa in the process.

Nessa of all people.

“You didn’t tell us yet if you’re going to be there,” are her words of greeting.

Raihan stares at her and decides to play dumb. “Good evening to you too, Nessa.”

“Yeah, good evening. We sent you the card two months ago. And the reminder should have arrived two weeks ago.”

He cocks his head, smiles at her. “You are sending me cards? That’s cute.”

“You’re being childish,” she huffs.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Bollocks.”

Last week, he met a random woman, a blonde one. He likes blondes. He likes them as blonde as possible. They always taste like nothing. Their lips and their skin. Their voices get on his nerves. Sometimes he lies awake afterwards, or he steps out on his flat’s balcony, and he scrolls through his phone on the lookout for something different, something new. It never helps. It never does, but he smiles anyway, because it’s the only thing he knows.

“Guess you mean the wedding invitation,” he says.

“Would you look at that. There’s a brain left in there after all.” It takes her some time until she uncrosses her arms and gives a sigh. “Look, I don’t get why you wouldn’t want to come, but if you don’t – just tell us so. It’s nothing personal, but we have some planning ahead of us. A wedding isn’t easy.”

“Poor you.”

“Bugger off with your sarcasm. I need a straight answer.”

It almost bubbles to the surface. Get it over and done with. But maybe Sonia is right, and it won’t change anything. She will still marry Milo. She will still start a cute, perfect family. She will still settle down somewhere nice. Because that’s just how it is.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers.

She keeps looking at him, scrutinizing. “You know that I’d really like you to be there.”

He wants to ask why, but he doesn’t really want to know the reason. So he stays quiet.

“After all, you were my training partner.” In a playful gesture, she hits his arm softly. “The one who taught me so much. Don’t think I’d ever forget our gym challenge. I enjoyed every single moment. Even when I lost to you for the hundredth time.”

He wants to smile, but can’t. There was this one time when he realized – a summer day, the first time Nessa managed to defeat Milo, a breeze flowing over her skin. The look in her eyes. Not one of triumph, but of shock. Maybe Milo was just the gentleness she needed, and maybe he is what she needs now. All the times she whispered of her secrets, of words no one but Raihan ever got to hear – maybe it wasn’t enough.

He shoots a look at Sonia and Leon. She is still blushing. It makes her look even prettier. He can’t understand why Leon looks as distracted as he does, restless eyes wandering over the room.

“You are right,” he says. “I’ll never forget it either.”

Empty words with empty meanings. It shows in Nessa’s eyes. It shows in her uncertainty. But that is just to be expected. A quick look at Gloria reveals that she must have been watching him. Bede isn’t near her, and Hop isn’t either, and it doesn’t surprise him. He is starting to understand. A game he has played for years. Almost funny that she is trying to underestimate him, then.

“Then that’s a yes?” Nessa looks almost hopeful. He doesn’t understand why. There is nothing to be sorry for and nothing to regret. At least for her. There shouldn’t be.

“I’ll think about it,” he repeats.

He flees. Thinks about Nessa in a pretty white dress. Thinks about tears in her eyes. Thinks about the thousand chances he had to kiss her. Thinks about how often she looked at him, and if she was waiting, or fearfully anticipating, or hoping that any moment they shared would be a fleeting one.

A warm spring day. Wyndon is never quiet. He likes it this way. It drowns his thoughts, pictures of pretty women melting into senseless forms as he keeps scrolling, and scrolling, and it’s getting boring enough to open his gallery instead. The picture of Gloria is still in there. Her looking at Wyndon, shoulders slightly hunched, face drenched in moonlight. There’s something sad about her in this picture, something that makes his heart clench.

Steps sound behind him. In the past, Nessa had thousands of chances to follow him. She didn’t use a single one. But it’s not her who enters the balcony. It’s not Sonia either, he notices as he looks up. It’s a black dress on a delicate body.

She stops. Her calmness unnerves him.

“All on your own?” he asks to break the silence. “Surprising.”

He can’t look at her any longer. They messaged each other – often at first, then less so. Only innocent texts, asking each other about their day, about their thoughts, about feelings, scratching surfaces he has always been scared of. She never talked about Victor. He found out about them through a random website. He never asked her if it was true, and when Victor started posting pictures of them together, he didn’t need to anymore.

He can’t say it surprised him. He wasn’t fazed by it, either. He likes to think he knows the game she is playing, because it’s the same one he feels so comfortable with. There is no smile on her lips as she approaches him, though. She comes to a halt next to him, leaning against the railing like she did years ago. Hair falls into her face.

“Same goes for you,” she responds. “Either you are making puppy eyes at Nessa or Sonia won’t leave your side.”

He snorts. “Nessa is getting married.”

“I know.”

Sometimes, he wanted to think that he knows Gloria like no one else does. Knows her in a way not even she herself can. He forgot what it feels like to be next to her. But fleeing wouldn’t have helped anyway. He taps against his crossed arm, leaning over the railing and looking away from her.

“Heard about you and Victor. Congrats.”

She doesn’t answer right away. When she does, there’s a tremor to her words he didn’t expect. “You never asked me about it.”

“Never told me, either.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.”

“Yeah?” They aren’t close, and yet he thinks he can feel the heat of her skin. He looks at her, watches her reactions. The way her eyes drift from the view before her to him. A speck of honey, he remembers. Doe eyes. Long lashes. “Why is that?”

The corner of her mouth twitches upwards, forming a shaky smile. “I don’t know.”

“Dodging the question like that? Bet you can do so more gracefully, can’t you?”

She exhales. Frowns at him. “I’m not exactly a graceful person. As you certainly know.”

“True.” He tilts his head and eyes her. The soft curve of her cleavage. Her slim legs. Her collarbone. The way her nails dig into her own skin. “You’re a wild one. Free. Always on the run.”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. Her lips are glistening in the moonlight.

“Am I wrong?” he asks.

A shudder passes through her. If she dislikes the way he looks at her, she doesn’t show it. “Maybe I didn’t tell you because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” He pushes himself away from the railing. She is watching him as he moves. Carefully, step after step. Next to her he stops. When he places a hand on the railing, his skin almost touching hers, she doesn’t flinch. She just keeps looking at him. At his eyes, at his face, at his lips.

He feels his fingers cramp around the railing. He tries to pull himself together. Tries not to think about possibilities that could be lost if he doesn’t act now. Tries not to remember how many times he stared at her pictures, imagining her next to him, in front of him, underneath him, and he wants to laugh. He doesn’t. He is about to lean forward, and a voice interrupts him.

“Gloria. I was searching for you.”

Any sound of amusement gets stuck in Raihan’s throat. There is no hesitation to Victor’s steps, and there is no hesitation to the way Gloria leans into the touch when he wraps an arm around her waist. Instinctively, Raihan takes a step back.

They look cute together, he thinks. They really do.

“Guess we both needed a little bit of space, didn’t we?” Raihan smiles, because it’s the one thing he can do. His words taste of bitterness.

“Yeah. It was getting a bit crowded in there.” She smiles at Victor, too. Maybe that’s the one thing she has learned to do. Her voice carries no trace of guilt, and the way she clenches her fist betrays her words.

“If you want to, we can leave early. Don’t need to stay for the afterparty.” Another smile, as fake as every other one, as Victor looks at Raihan. “You should stay here for once, though. The afterparty is really fun. Would be your kind of evening, I reckon.”

“Not much of a party animal these days,” Raihan replies, politely, neutrally, not letting go of Victor’s eyes.

“Really? That’s kind of surprising.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Gloria chimes in, still all smiles. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know.”

Raihan doesn’t know whether to laugh or not, so he stays silent. A moment passes. He feels his hair stand on end. Gloria eyes him, and he can see Victor’s hand still resting on her waist, drawing slow circles over it. A black dress, Raihan wonders, and he can’t think of a single color that would have fit her less.

“Hadn’t much time to socialize out of work lately, I guess,” Victor eventually says. “Maybe we should change that. Go for a drink sometime after a meeting.”

Raihan shrugs. “Sure.”

“Oh,” Gloria says, resting her cheek on Victor’s shoulder. “You’ll be at Milo and Nessa’s wedding too, right?”

Raihan’s smile starts to feel cold. He doesn’t know if the sparkle in Gloria’s eyes is a challenge or simple acknowledgement.

“Don’t know yet,” he says.

Victor cocks his head. “Really? You’ll miss out. We’ve been waiting years for them to finally dare take the last step.”

“Everyone can already tell it will be a dream wedding.” She sighs. “They look so happy together.”

“They sure do.” There is no disdain in his voice. There would be no reason for such.

“I hope you’ll be there.” With that, Victor nods at him and turns to the exit, pulling Gloria with him in the process. “See you inside, yeah?”

“See you inside,” Gloria repeats. Her thumb reaches her lips, dragging over pinkness until all that is left is a grin, a flutter of her eyelashes. Then her back is turned to him, too.

Raihan is left in silence. He wonders how Victor must feel, getting the one thing neither Hop nor Bede managed to keep. Automatically, he reaches for his phone and unlocks the display. Looks through messages from random girls and waits. Of course she doesn’t message him. Of course her looks and her words are nothing more than a part of a strategic game, and of course he is falling right into the trap.

He stares at pictures, tries to engrave them into his mind. Tries to forget. In the end, he opens his gallery again and finds the picture of a girl surrounded by the night’s loneliness. He remembers fixing her the gin tonic in her hands. He remembers her words, her perfume.

He begins chatting with a girl and locks the phone mid-conversation. It’s spring, and it’s warm, almost unbearably so. No matter the time of day, Wyndon is a busy city. People everywhere. Flying taxis in the sky. Raihan begins to feel ridiculous. So he takes a breath and exits the balcony.

It’s Sonia’s messages that ultimately convince him to visit the afterparty. She doesn’t want to get too drunk and embarrass herself in front of Leon, she says. He isn’t even really talking to her anyway, she adds, but who cares. It’s more fun with Raihan around. He doesn’t want to admit it, but that does get to him. So he opens the door – only to be met by a pair of brown eyes staring at him.

A second passes. She seems just as surprised as he feels.

“I was just,” Gloria starts, stumbling over words. “I’m going to – I’m going to go.”

She is about to turn around. He doesn’t let her. “Already left the party?” he asks before she can flee.

“Obviously.”

“And ended up here?”

She fidgets. Doesn’t look at him. Something ugly threatens to come to the surface, and he can’t stop the words from escaping his lips.

“Isn’t your boyfriend wondering what you are doing?”

A beat. Slowly, she lifts her eyes and looks at him. The guilt she couldn’t show Victor is apparent in her eyes. He knows what it means. He wishes he would care.

“I convinced him to go to the afterparty without me,” she says.

It’s not like it’s the first time he is playing with fire. Yet he feels lost. Torn. He leans against the doorframe. Eyes her from above. She is small, delicate. Easy to pin down. Easy to devour. It should be fun, but it isn’t.

“All on your own, poor you,” he says, the words easily gliding from his tongue. “You want to come in and have a drink? Could keep you company for a bit.”

“Why not,” she replies just as casually.

He shoots Sonia a quick text and hopes she will forgive him. He doesn’t ask as he pours her a glass of red wine. Another glass for himself.

“So you finally fell for someone,” he says, and he knows her answer before she can utter it.

“I didn’t.”

It takes him some time until he can turn to her and hand her the glass. Without looking into her eyes, he nods at the balcony. Lets her take the lead. A nightly breeze hits him as he steps outside. She doesn’t sit down on one of the chairs. Her eyes roam the city before her. Maybe she needs it too, he begins to think. Constant noise.

She waits until he is standing next to her. Her glass clangs against his. “Cheers,” she mumbles.

He returns the word and takes a sip. Sour, bitter, clinging to his tongue. He doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. He never did.

Silence stretches. He resists the urge to reach for his phone. Down there, Sonia is trying to look her best for a bloke that isn’t even going to notice it. Down there, Victor is playing the nice, patient champion while wondering what exactly his girlfriend is up to. It would be funny to Raihan if it wasn’t so sad.

“Same story as with fairy boy, then?” He didn’t mean to sound that condescending. “Trying your best and seeing where it leads?”

“I’m surprised you even remember.”

“Hard to forget.” A truth that sounds too vulnerable, and he adds a quiet chuckle. “Some daft plans you have, love. Could almost call them entertaining.”

“Glad you find it amusing.”

Despite her cold words, there is an air of superiority to her. It stirs something up inside him, something deep and hidden.

“You know as well as me that it’s your own fault,” he therefore says. The words scratch in his throat. “For not letting him see who you are.”

A snort. “That’s what you want to do? Make fun of me and give me useless advice?”

He eyes her. He doesn’t know who she is trying to fool. “Maybe it’s not them who is the problem. Maybe it’s you.”

She takes a hearty gulp, downing it like water. “Stop being an arsehole.”

“Tell me that’s not what you want to hear.”

“It isn’t.” Her voice is small and quiet. “I don’t need you to tell me what is wrong with me.”

“Why are you here, then?”

She laughs. It sounds empty. Her free hand is buried in her hair, and she closes her eyes. “For a glass of wine and a good chat.”

Sure she is. It would be easy to give in. He searches for words and finds none. She swirls the liquid in her glass, her eyes trained on her drink.

“I lost Hop,” she says. “I lost Bede. We were friends, and now we are not. I never asked them to fall for me. I never wanted them to.”

He doesn’t feel like drinking, so he puts his glass on the small table next to the chairs. Returns to her side. Her eyes are on him now. He isn’t sure what exactly she must be feeling.

“I would have lost Victor, too,” she says.

He wishes he would have an answer, but he doesn’t. He wishes he could understand her, and somehow he does.

With a snort, she stares at her hand. “I told them I don’t want to lose them. They told me they can’t go back to how things were. That’s why …” She shakes her head, lets the rim of the glass rest against her lips. “I’m not a heartbreaker. I’m no irresistible goddess. I don’t get them. I really don’t.”

“That’s why you are with Victor now?”

She takes a sip. Her lips are pink. She looks at him. “I didn’t lose him, now did I?”

“Not yet.”

It’s not the whole truth, and unspoken words linger in the air without ever being said. He can’t endorse her action, and neither can he condemn them. She’s just a lost girl unable to save herself. Unable to admit her true thoughts to herself.

“Maybe there’s more to life than trying to keep people by any means possible,” he continues before she can speak. “Maybe you should try looking for yourself first.”

She smiles. “That’s deep.”

A chuckle glides from his lips, getting lost in the night.

“Maybe the same goes for you.” Her smile fades. She looks at Wyndon again. There is something about her, about the longing in her eyes that gets to him. “Maybe you should stop running after something you can’t have and start looking for something you can.”

He can’t help it. He keeps staring at her. Thinking about feelings has become tiresome. Thinking about what-ifs. Replacing people and wondering why he did it in the first place. Being bored out of his mind, and never finding the solution.

He had thousand chances to kiss Nessa, and he never used one of them.

She empties her glass. In a quick gesture, he grabs her hand and takes the glass from her. Her skin underneath his is cold and makes him shiver to the core. He doesn’t let go of her as he puts her glass on the table. Out of calm eyes, she looks at him. Watches him.

“Maybe we should both go to the afterparty,” he says, the small smile on his lips painful. “Check on Victor. See how he is doing.”

“Maybe we should,” she confirms. She doesn’t move.

He kissed women before. Too many to count. They always tell him he is straightforward, maybe a bit too much so. He never did it slowly. There would have been no reason to. He never leaned down like he does now, waiting for a reaction. Because none of them would have ever run away. Not like he does. He never stopped just short of kissing them, their breaths mingling with his. He never looked into their eyes, trying to guess just what exactly they were thinking.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she mumbles.

He lets out a breath. Her skin is cold. Slowly, his hand glides from her wrist. He wants to lean back again, and she doesn’t let him. Her fingers grip his tie, hold him in place. They are too close. He never felt his heart pound like this, he thinks. Or he simply can’t remember.

“You think you can have me?” she whispers.

He smirks. “You think I would want you?”

His heart isn’t racing. Her hand isn’t trembling. He wasn’t dreaming of her constantly. He isn’t playing right into her hand. She doesn’t smile back. For a moment, he wonders if Victor ever got to see such an expression on her face, or if he doesn’t know his girlfriend after all.

“I think you do.” She pulls the tiniest bit, almost closing the distance for good. “I think you are dying to kiss me.”

“But you are a good girl,” he says. “Loyal. Honest. You wouldn’t do it.”

She is staring at him. At his lips. Back to his eyes again. Her cheeks are pink, her words are quiet. “You think that’s who I am?”

Of course it isn’t. His hand finds the back of her neck, her hairline, getting tangled in silky strands. He tugs gently. A small sound builds in her throat. She closes her eyes, breaths getting heavier. Her skin is warm, now. She’s small, easy to break. Easy to crush beneath his hands.

“No,” he whispers. “I think you want me to make a mess of you. You want me to do anything I want to you, and then you’ll return to your boyfriend. You’ll smile at him as if nothing ever happened. You’ll never want him to know. Because that’s just the girl you are.”

She squeezes her eyes shut with more force. He doesn’t know how much of it he really means, and how much of it is what she wants to hear. She lets go of his tie, instead gripping his clothes as if trying to hold on for dear life.

“Am I right?” he asks.

She doesn’t reply. He tugs harder. Her nails dig into his skin, her lips form another sound. High-pitched. Helpless.

“I asked if I am right,” he mumbles, staring at her face, at any tiny reaction she shows.

“Yes,” she breathes.

It’s no triumph. It hurts. So he pulls her closer and kisses her.

The feeling of her lips against his is electrifying. Painful. The first touch makes her gasp, and her arms snake around his neck as their lips meet again. Sliding, pressing against each other, seeking a warmth he has been missing for so long. More, more, until there is nothing left but her taste on his tongue. His hands find her waist, pull her closer. Discover her delicate curves. He pushes her against the railing and holds her head in place. She presses back against him. Her body moving, wrapping around him, her breaths and tiny sounds breaking over his lips.

Nothing about the way she kisses him is shy, nothing makes it hurt less. She bites his lip and sucks on it, nails dragging over his neck. The strap of her dress slides off her shoulder. His hand moves from the back of her head to her throat, to her collarbone. Her sternum. Further down. Her lips are still moving over his feverishly. Every touch makes her breath hitch anew.

Inside the room, a phone starts ringing.

It isn’t Raihan’s. That one is in his pocket. He can ignore it, but Gloria seems unable to, and she breaks the kiss abruptly. Pushes him away. It’s so sudden that the coldness she leaves feels harsh on skin. His heart is still racing. Wyndon’s noise hasn’t died down.

“Victor.” Her voice is sweet. A tone she would never direct at him. “No, I’m fine. Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Don’t worry about me. Have a good time.”

Meaningless phrases. At least he thinks they are. But when Gloria turns to him again, her eyes are wide and glazed over. It’s not hard to guess what it means.

“I can’t,” she says, and tries again. “I’ll go to the afterparty. Victor needs me.”

Raihan smiles. There is nothing left to smile about.

“I just …” She steps closer. Her hands twitch upwards, hang uselessly in the air without ever touching him. “I’m sorry. It was just a kiss. I’m really sorry.”

“There’s two to a kiss.”

“That’s exactly why I should have stopped you.”

That’s funny. Lying to oneself and not even realizing it. Or not wanting to admit it. She’s just a girl, someone he shouldn’t care about. So he decides to bury everything and show her the most carefree grin he can muster.

“Always there when you need me, love.”

She frowns. Seems to search for words. His grin stays in place.

“Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting for too long, will you?”

She presses her lips to a line and takes a step back. Black doesn’t fit her. Not in the way it should. She doesn’t say goodbye as she leaves his room. She leaves the smell of her perfume hanging in the air. She leaves whispers of touches on his skin. His grin fades.

Sonia has messaged him back. She sounds concerned. That’s somewhat touching, and he thinks about not responding at all and does so anyway. He stares at Wyndon in the night. He thinks about women he kissed, and he wonders why his heart never raced like this before.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on his door. Sonia is holding a bottle of expensive champagne in her hand. “Snatched it when no one was looking,” she explains as she lifts it up.

He smiles. It’s almost starting to feel genuine, this time.

The next day, he sees Leon in the entrance hall.

“Oh,” he says when he spots both Raihan and Sonia. “Having a busy day, the two of you?”

There’s an odd edge to his words, and before Sonia can turn into a stuttering mess, Raihan answers in her place. “We need a hangover breakfast. You want to come with? For old time’s sake.”

“That would be fun,” she agrees, clapping her hands.

Leon looks at her, then at Raihan. “Sure,” he eventually says, a wide smile on his face. “Call me nostalgic, but I miss our times together. It’s been way too long.”

“It sure has,” says Raihan.


	4. Chapter 4

She catches his eye. She always will. She arrives a bit too late and on her own, finds a seat in the last row. A pink dress. No one pays her any attention. No one but Raihan, it seems. Because she sends him a smile, small and careful, and he can’t help but return it. In the first row, Nessa’s mother is sobbing uncontrollably, and the priest’s voice echoes through the church.

When the guests follow the bridal couple outside, he stays next to Sonia, listening to her gushing over the bride’s dress and the location and the perfection of it all. Leon is next to them, too, and he laughs whenever Sonia gets lost in her own swooning. It’s nice to see. It’s nice to be a part of something Raihan thought he had lost a long time ago.

Before the banquet can begin, Raihan makes his escape. They seated him between Sonia and Leon. That’s kind of nice. Less nice is the fact that Gloria is sitting right across from him. Not that much of a problem, really. In fact pretty entertaining, considering the fact that the person sitting next to her is her recently made ex. Still – talking and pretending as if the wedding is one of the most beautiful events he has ever witnessed would have been too much. He is sure that Sonia understands, and he is sure that she will want to talk to him later on, but for now, he can’t.

He ends up being alone just outside the hall the bridal couple rented. It’s a late afternoon, the sun is about to set. Next to him, the church’s tower soars against the sky. Nessa looked beautiful in her dress, tears shining in her eyes, and Milo looked like the happiest bloke on earth. Which Raihan supposes he is.

It doesn’t surprise him when someone appears next to him. Gloria stops close to him, looking at the horizon. A clear sky. A warm breeze. Gras that is swaying in the wind. A dress that stops at her knees, a pink that emphasizes her pale skin. He can’t look at her for more than a few seconds.

“Sorry about Victor,” he says.

“Sorry about Nessa,” she replies.

The words leave a silence he has dreaded for years. But it’s not as bad as he thought, he realizes, and he stays quiet.

They talked. More often than before. Messages he stared at for way too long. Time and time again, she asked him if what she was doing was right. He couldn’t give her an answer. So they never met. It’s not like he longed for her. It’s not like he looked at her pictures too often to count.

“Brave of you,” she says. “To come here still.”

“Same goes for you.”

Their eyes meet. Her smile has never been that gentle. “Just another thing we have in common.”

He has to laugh. He has to stop looking at her. His phone vibrates in his pocket. He doesn’t pull it out.

Words wouldn’t be enough. No matter what either of them said. He wouldn’t have been enough for her, and he understands why. There is no use in chasing something that will never be his. Maybe that’s what no boy who fell for her understood: that she is no girl to be owned, but to be irreversibly drawn to.

He hears voices from inside, laughing and joking. He will never forget Nessa’s face as her wedding ring was slid on her finger. The loving kiss that followed. He wonders if he will ever understand how that feels, kissing someone that tenderly.

“I never told you,” says Gloria. “But I am glad I never became a gym leader.”

“Why is that?”

She looks at him from underneath her lashes, no smile on her pretty lips. “I can go wherever. Whenever. I am not bound to anything.”

And to anyone.

“That’s true,” he replies.

They stay silent as evening arrives, and the sun finally sets.


End file.
